


While There is Life

by Limpet666



Series: While There is Life [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Post-prequel rewrite, Qui-Gon Lives, space dads on the run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6705571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limpet666/pseuds/Limpet666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon Jinn is pulled back to the Jedi Temple by an unnameable foreboding, just in time to face the full force of Order 66. His, and the future of every last remaining Jedi, is forever changed that day, and he and Obi-Wan must find a way to navigate the future before them.</p><p>(This is the start of a larger story made up of lots of little ficlets of varying lengths. It charts the lives of Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and their unplanned family of Force-sensitive younglings after the Temple Purge.)</p><p>(Eventual QuiObi. Lots of youngling OCs.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	While There is Life

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the introduction to the 'Space Dads on the Run' AU. After this there's a multitude of ever growing ficlets. Some QuiObi centric. Some youngling centric. Some big events that happen to them in their travels. But all set in this same Alternate Universe.
> 
> (0 years AO66)

Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn awoke in the early hours of the morning with a gasping shout. His sleep clothes and sheets were drenched with sweat, and his hair stuck uncomfortably to his neck and face and he fought to control his panicked breathing.

_Something bad was about to happen._

Flashes of red and black echoed in his mind, accompanied with a feeling of horror and dread that he tried again and again to _feel_ and _accept_ and _let go_. But it was hard to accept the fear, harder still to understand the feelings of utter betrayal that twisted in his gut without a face to put them to.

Eventually he calmed himself enough to get to his feet, unsteady at first, but gaining in surety as he made his way to the door of his small sleeping quarters. There he hastily pulled on his boots before grabbing his cloak as he ducked through the doorway.

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the last of the prescience that flashed hazy images of death and destruction across his mind.

He had to get back to Coruscant.

\- - -

Whilst the Jedi Council was not happy about letting a Master in the field return to the Temple for no discernible reason, they could all see that Qui-Gon wasn't really asking for permission. His contact with the Council was more of a courtesy call than a genuine request for reassignment.

Beside, the taking of Saleucami was all but resolved, and within a few days he and Jedi Master Quinlan Vos had planned to move their troops to Boz Pity. Vos was more than capable of handling that himself.

He knew he looked less than presentable; he had done little more than pull on his travel cloak over his sleep clothes before activating the vidcom to the council chambers. But his gut told him time was of the essence.

“Alright, Qui-Gon,” Mace Windu looked less happy than usual, but wasn't outright arguing with his old friend, “If you feel that strongly about it, we grant you leave to return to Coruscant. We'll review the issue when you arrive.”

“I'll be back to the Temple within the week,” Qui-Gon informed them, and there were muttered confirmations from the Council before he ended the call.

He would feel more at ease once he was home, he told himself.

At least, that was what he hoped.

\- - -

Qui-Gon's ship touched down in the Temple's landing bay just as Anakin was sitting down on the Jedi Council for the first time.

By the time he had finished the landing procedure and made his way to the Council Chambers, Anakin and Obi-Wan were just exiting.

“Qui-Gon!” Obi-Wan's face lit up in surprised joy when he saw his former Master. He rushed forward to clasp his hand, other hand clapping down on his shoulder. Qui-Gon returned the gesture, feeling some of his tension ease at the sight of his former Padawan. Obi-Wan had grown into spectacular Jedi Master, capable and powerful, and it was hard not to feel reassured by his presence.

Of course, Obi-Wan felt the same way about Qui-Gon, and the tall Jedi Master was just the reassurance he needed to calm his private worries about Anakin.

“I didn't know you were due back at the Temple,” Obi-Wan commented, face showing his confusion, “If I'd have known I would have met you from your ship.”

Qui-Gon lowered his head with a smile, “It's not exactly a scheduled stop,” he said softly, and was saved from any more explanation when Anakin caught up to them.

“Master Qui-Gon,” he greeted him with a smile, bowing formally, but there was something… different about him. More than the six inches of height he had gained since the last time Qui-Gon had seen him, that is.

“You're growing tall, my former Padawan,” Qui-Gon commented with a laugh, “Soon you'll be taller than me.”

“I certainly hope not,” Obi-Wan grumbled, and both the other men laughed, the tension of unfamiliarity between them breaking, and Qui-Gon held out his hand to greet Anakin properly.

“It is good to see you again, Anakin.”

“You too, Master Qui-Gon,” Anakin took Qui-Gon's hand in a firm embrace, and a shock of ice crashed over the Jedi Master. His blood ran cold, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up like there was a storm in the air.

_What was wrong with Anakin?_

Qui-Gon fought to keep the inexplicable dread off his face. He was old and wise enough to know that the horror he was feeling may not have anything to do with Anakin directly. Or even at all. Maybe it was the handshake, or the location. Prescience was a difficult thing to judge, and as of yet his gut was not telling him to take any action.

“Were you waiting for Obi-Wan outside the chambers?” Qui-Gon asked of Anakin, not wanting to keep them if Anakin needed to speak to Obi-Wan about something.

As much as they tried to hide it, Qui-Gon knew both of them well enough to see the subtle shifts of discomfort in their postures.

“Anakin is _on_ the council now,” Obi-Wan explained, and his smile was warm but strained.

Before Qui-Gon could open his mouth to ask questions, or congratulate _Master_ Skywalker on his new title, Anakin spoke up.

“I'm sure the Council will explain it,” he said shortly, then stepped around Qui-Gon, “I'm afraid I must excuse myself. Masters.” He bowed stiffly, then turned without another word.

Qui-Gon looked to Obi-Wan with confusion, and the smaller man sighed, pushing a hand back through his hair, “He's not wrong. It's probably better the Council explain it.” He sent a tight smile up to his former Master, and Qui-Gon nodded. It was the matter of a few minutes, so he wouldn't push the subject. Instead he just laid a reassuring hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder.

“I'm being deployed to Utupau, but when I get back we should catch up,” Obi-Wan smiled up at Qui-Gon. The Clone Wars had made it difficult for any of them to stay in touch, and vidcoms just weren't the same. When they worked at all, “It _has_ been good to see you, Qui-Gon.”

“And you, Obi-Wan.”

\- - -

“A vision, you saw?” Master Yoda's face was a picture of thoughtful concern, “Certain, you are?”

“Yes Masters,” Qui-Gon stood in the centre of the Council chamber, straight backed and sure, “I do not know when, or how, but something catastrophic is soon to happen.” He breathed though the anxiety that remembering the Force Dream brought. “The Force tells me this is where I need to be.”

The Masters around him murmured unhappily, their discontent almost palpable.

Qui-Gon was a respected Master, and had earned their trust a thousand times over. After the death of Jedi Knight Tahl, they had never once doubted his prescience again. He had lost a piece of his soul that day, but gained the life-long trust of the Council. Even if it was born of guilt and regret.

“Is there anything more you can tell us?” Mace leaned forward, steepling his fingers as he regarded his friend.

Qui-Gon sighed and shook his head, “There were no useful images, I saw no faces.” He had explained to them of the death and destruction he saw. Mountains of bodies, lightsabers of red and blue and green, and the temple calling to him. But nothing he could use to pre-empt events.

“Trust in the Force, we must,” Yoda spoke, but was obviously troubled, “Perhaps more it will show you.” Qui-Gon lowered his head. Half of him agreed with Yoda; he prayed for a way to stop what he felt coming.

But the other half of him never again wanted to experience the fear and loss and helplessness he had felt that night.

“For now we gladly accept you back to the Temple, Master Qui-Gon,” Mace told him, “Until such time that we can no longer spare you in the field.”

“I understand, Master Windu.”

“Pleased, the younglings will be,” Yoda spoke with sudden impish amusement, “Take my place in their teachings, you can, hmm?”

Qui-Gon would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to spending time with the younglings. It had been too long since he had had the time to visit.

By the grace of the Force he got two days of imparting his wisdom to the Jedi Younglings of the temple. In that time, the joy of teaching, the innocent wonder with which the children approached their learning, was almost enough to make him forget his nightmare.

And then the nightmare came true.

\- - -

Qui-Gon got no warning. No ripple in the Force. No sense of trouble on the horizon. One moment everything was fine as he prepared the holoreel for his next class--

And the next he was on his knees clutching at his heart and struggling to breath through the sudden _emptiness_ in the Force. A massive presence, once an unmistakable beacon of light and strength, shimmered briefly and then... _gone._

_Mace!_

His fingers curled tight in his robes, looking for purchase on reality as his mind raced to find a reason. To figure out what had happened.

They had all lost friends in the War, Clones and Jedi and civilian alike, but Mace Windu was on Coruscant! How had--

Qui-Gon cried out helplessly as a sudden wave of darkness crashed upon his mind, and he squeezed his eyes shut at the throbbing agony that radiated though him. Images upon images crashed upon him without mercy.

_**danger darkness pain death blood run run run the Sith are coming the Sith are coming THE SITH** _

“ _Run Qui-Gon, the Sith are coming!”_

Qui-Gon came around to find his hands gripping at his hair so tight he had pulled it from his tie. His forehead was pressed to the cool tile, his breathing ragged and choked.

But he was on his feet in an instant. He had no idea how long the Force Vision had lasted, but he knew time was running out.

They needed to evacuate the Temple!

All around him in the corridors there was a mix of scared and confused faces. Some of the children had felt Master Windu's passing, others had not. The few Jedi that were present wore stunned and disbelieving expressions.

“Get out of the Temple!” his voice thundered over the confused voices, drawing everyone's attention to him. His impressive height meant every eye saw him, “Danger is coming, everyone needs to evacuate!” No movement. He took a breath and gathered every ounce of Force suggestion he could muster, _**“NOW!”**_

All at once there was a rush a movement as the Jedi gathered up groups of younglings and began to evacuate them to the exits.

Qui-Gon skidded to a halt in the doorway of the Jedi Academy landing bay as he felt the true horror of what was about to happen. It rolled upon him like the swell before a cresting tsunami.

He was too late.

A great wave of fear and _pain_ tore through the Force as the first Jedi were murdered en masse.

Far away from their home, and taken by surprise, they did not go gentle. Qui-Gon had to lean against the wall lest his legs gave out under the mental onslaught as a torrent of voices, crying out at the injustice of it as they passed through the Force, quaked the very centre of him. A mass of lives and minds and voices, indistinguishable from each other, wailed in the dark before flickering from sight.

And then came the cries of those he recognised.

_Ki'Adi Mundi. Aayla Secura. Plo Koon._

**No!**

“ _Keep moving, Qui-Gon, they are coming for you.”_

He didn't know whose voice it was he heard in his ear, but he did as he was told.

Qui-Gon paused briefly in the port to assess the ships available, before sprinting towards the classrooms with all the speed he had.

Within seconds he had located a group of mixed younglings, scared and whimpering, of all different ages and species. Leading them was a Wookiee youngling he knew by name.

“Gungi, yes?” Qui-Gon said, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, “I need you to be brave and help me, can you do that?”

“<Yes Master Qui-Gon,>” Gungi couldn't hide the fear in his voice, but he would do as was needed. His three friends at his side also nodded.

“Alright,” Qui-Gon looked to the 9 other children in the room, “I want everyone to hold hands in groups of three.” He put a touch of Force Suggestion in his words, something he would never have considered doing had the circumstances not been so dire.

He looked to the three older younglings at Gungi's side. They were all of Padawan age.

“You three, I want you take a group each and take them to the port, we're going to be flying out here. Do any of you have any pilot experience?”

“Yes Master,” A Tholothian girl, Katooni he thought her name was, spoke up.

“Good, get on board the ship with the _red_ landing struts and start take off procedures.”

The Force was screaming at him now. They had to move fast.

But there were still other younglings around, he could sense it. And he couldn't leave them.

A rush of action as they moved to do as they were told, and Qui-Gon caught Katooni's arm, leaning down to whisper to her, “If we do not return in 5 minutes, or if the port is compromised, _leave.”_

Tears filled her eyes, but she nodded, “Yes, Master.”

Qui-Gon nodded back, then turned his attention to the task at hand, “Gungi, with me.”

The Wookiee boy was adept enough at a Force sprint to allow for them to move quickly.

The first youngling they encountered was a Bothan boy, and Gungi greeted him as 'Kaz'. He came with them without a word of question, his face a grim mask but his eyes full of fear.

A little way along they found a group of three Twi'lek sisters huddled under a table. The youngest was crying inconsolably, whilst the oldest had a training saber in her hand, ready to fight.

“Kaz, take them to the port!” Qui-Gon commanded, and then he and Gungi moved on, trusting his order to be followed.

If Katooni did as she was told, they had 3 minutes left.

A cry for help alerted them, and around the next corner they encountered a tall Rodian girl trying to support the weight of two infants, her thin arms shaking. Qui-Gon knew her name to be Or'mi Su. Immediately Gungi took the larger Harch infant from her, leaving her to support the smaller Kaminoan.

“Master Qui-Gon, the babies!” she implored.

“How many?” Qui-Gon barked, giving Gungi a look that told him to take her and get to the ship. The Wookie understood and took her hand.

“Three more!” Or'mi called, before allowing Gungi to pull her down the corridor at great speed.

Qui-Gon rushed into the crèche just as another youngling ran in through the other door.

All of a sudden a great disturbance crashed through the Force, and Qui-Gon gritted his teeth against the agony of loss that beat at his skull. People were dying in the temple. Jedi were dying.

Younglings were dying.

“ _These are the last, Qui-Gon.”_

That voice again. A pressure on his elbow to get him moving again, picking up the Harch girl who had sunk to her knees with a cry.

“Master Qui-Gon?” she entreated, terror and bewilderment in her six brown eyes.

“I know, young one, I know.”

What more could he say. There were no words to make this better.

“We must move,” he told her with urgency, crossing to the three occupied cribs. Within them, infant younglings stared up at him silently. They were clearly anxious, afraid and confused, but they did not cry.

He handed a small Rodian baby to the Harch girl, and she enclosed four of her six arms around the infant protectively.

“Can you run?” He asked her, as he lifted the remaining younglings, a human and a togruta, into his arms.

These were the last children he would be able to save.

The only children who would escape the massacre.

The thought was almost enough to freeze him, if that had been an option.

“Yes Master.”

And so they ran. Back to the ship. Back to the port. Just in time to see a battalion of Clones enter from the other side.

They already had their blasters at the ready, lifted and aimed right at them. Qui-Gon didn't have time to get to his lightsaber, not with arms full of two frightened younglings.

He saw the Clones take aim, heard the scared whisper from the Harch girl beside him, and then he saw the moment the Clones pulled the triggers. The moment seemed to last an eternity.

Only to jerk back into full speed as the bolts were deflected harmlessly away by a flash of green lightsabers. The older younglings, the Rodian Ganodi and the human boy Petro, had leapt from the ship and deflected the bolts away.

The Clones didn't hesitate to continue firing upon the boys, and Qui-Gon couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. He knew these Clones. Behind the helmets there would be faces he called friends.

How had this happened?

“Master!”

He looked down to see the Harch girl reach up with her four free arms, and he hastily handed the two infants he held to her, “Get to the ship!”

He ignited his lightsaber and ran towards the fray, shouting at the boys to get back into the ship. He could tell by the whirr of the engines that they still had at least a minute before the ship was ready to take off.

Qui-Gon ran at his full speed, and time seemed to slow around him.

He saw as Ganodi turned and began his sprint back to the safety of the ship.

He saw Petro do the same.

From behind the Clones he saw a dark cloaked figure step into the room, and felt the frisson of dread crawl across his skin.

And he saw the blaster bolt that slipped through Petro's defences. Saw it rip through his chest. And watched helplessly as dozens of bolts followed it.

“ **NO!”**

The boy was dead before he hit the floor, and the vacuum where his Life Force had once been was shocking.

But he had no time to stop, to dwell, to mourn. The Clones didn't pause an instant before opening fire again, and he stopped in front of the ship to deflect the thunderous cacophony of shots away from the last of the younglings who were still boarding.

He couldn't allow the ship to be damaged.

All at once the Clones stopped, and Qui-Gon exhaled a confused breath before he took note of the cloaked figure stepping out into the open.

And then Qui-Gon forgot how to breathe altogether.

The soft heartbroken keen that escaped him when he realised who stood before him echoed in the suddenly quiet room.

“No...” Qui-Gon's voice was barely more than a plaintive whimper, the breath stricken from his chest as he folded upon himself in grief

Anakin's gaze burned into him, the young man's once blue eyes tainted a sickly yellow, a mockery of everything Qui-Gon had wanted for him. Everything he had thought he was.

“Why?” Qui-Gon's whispered, his lightsaber deactivating at his hip without thinking. The idea that he could strike at Anakin was...unthinkable.

“My new Master demands it,” even Anakin's voice was wrong. Hollow.

Qui-Gon thought of all the things he wanted to say. Everything he could try to bring Anakin back despite all that had already happened. To stop him going further down this path of darkness.

But in his heart, he already knew.

“ _There is nothing you can do for him now.”_

The words were soft and final.

At last he recognised the voice, and his eyes closed in the aching grief that threatened to overwhelm him. He knew in his heart that it was the last time he would hear his friend's voice.

_Goodbye Mace._

He opened his eyes a split second before lifting his reignited lightsaber to meet the blue blade aimed at his neck.

“If I don't do this he wont show me how to save her!” Anakin bit out between gritted teeth, a snarl on his face as he leapt back and then darted back in, lightaber a flash of speed.

Qui-Gon parried the blow, and remained on the defensive as he batted away every rage-fueled swipe Anakin took at him.

Though the blade was blue, the wild strength and furious abandon behind each blow took Qui-Gon back to that battle over a decade before. The one that would have claimed his life had Obi-Wan not gotten to him so quickly.

He could not allow that to happen this time. The younglings in the ship behind him would be slaughtered if he fell, and he **would not allow it.**

No matter who stood before him.

The was a flash of surprise in Anakin's eyes as Qui-Gon suddenly pushed back, and all at once became every bit the Grand Battle Master he had been dubbed in the War. His superior height bore him down at Anakin with every thunderous blow, and the new Sith Lord found himself suddenly on the defensive.

Qui-Gon was silent and icy in his fearsome, calculated strikes, whereas Anakin burned and roared his displeasure as they met again and again, neither gaining ground.

But Qui-Gon knew he only had to hold out until--

The engines roared into their final stages of take off, and without being told Katooni started a slow ascent.

It was time to go, and Qui-Gon turned his head to look to the ship.

All it took was a moment. Less than a second of distraction as Qui-Gon decided how best to leave.

Darth Vader was upon him, charging through Qui-Gon's defences, his blue lightsaber little more than a blur of light.

It was then that Qui-Gon knew there was nothing left of the boy he had believed with all his heart to be The Chosen One.

Had he not already been in motion Qui-Gon would have been killed in an instant; cut from shoulder to hip. Darth Vader had struck without mercy.

The pain was agonising, and Qui-Gon hit the ramp of the ship shoulder-first with a cry of pain. Immediately his long body curled up tight, clutching at his right arm.

Or what was left of it.

He was vaguely aware of a group of younglings making use of the on-board blasters to cover their escape as Katooni took them up into the sky as fast as the screaming engines could move.

They didn't know what awaited them once they breached the atmosphere, and Qui-Gon hoped that their escape from the Temple wouldn't end abruptly by being shot down in orbit.

But it was all clear as they made it into open space, and without being asked Katooni charted a random course and jumped to the safety of HyperSpace.

It was only then that the reality of their situation could sink in.

Qui-Gon couldn't move from the floor of the transport ship, his large frame racked in agony, both physical and spiritual. It was only the rapidly spreading wet warmth creeping over his chest that brought him back to reality.

Uncurling with a groan of pain, he could finally see the damage done to him by Darth Vader.

Everything below his right elbow was just…gone.

“<Master?>” The whimper of frightened Shyriiwook was accompanied by Gungi kneeling at his side.

The wound had not cauterised as well as it could have, and Qui-Gon was aware that without aid he was going to bleed to death.

But it was so hard to get his mind to focus. Around him younglings cried and whimpered, and the infants, knowing they were safe for now, were wailing with abandon.

He had to…he had to take command. He had to do something.

With a cry of pain he used his left hand to elevate his right arm, “Gungi, go get the med packs, we need to stop the bleeding. Or'Mi--?” He couldn't look for the girl, but he knew she was there.

“Here Master,” came the quiet, grief-stricken voice.

“See to the little ones,” his breathing was laboured and hissed as he fought through waves of pain, “There will be blankets in the lockers, make sure everyone is warm.” Shock would start to set in for all of them sooner or later, “Get Misha and Kaz to help you.”

“Yes Master.” He was pleased to hear immediate movement, and seconds later Gungi was back with the medical kit.

“Is Ganodi in the cockpit?” Qui-Gon asked of the Wookiee, and got a nod in reply, “Call for him. You're going to need his help.” He was finding his strength was failing, and the Wookiee roared for the Rodian boy urgently.

\- - -

When Qui-Gon regained consciousness he found his head was pillowed by a folded blanket, and he was covered by another. They had not managed to get him off the floor, but since he had awoken at all he took that as a positive sign.

“Master Qui-Gon?” There were murmurs of relief all around him, and as he turned his head he found himself surrounded by nearly two dozen pairs of wide, scared eyes.

“How long--?” He asked, voice raspy, and his head pounded from blood loss.

“You've been unconscious for 3 hours,” a human boy with dark hair answered him. Noel, Qui-Gon thought his name was.

Gingerly, Qui-Gon slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, and numerous hands shot out to help him. He grimaced as his injured arm pulsed with pain, but he trusted the bacta to be doing its job. 3 hours was more than enough time to pull him away from any life-threatening issues.

Qui-Gon looked around to finally take stock of the situation.

They were on board a small transport ship that had only three separate rooms. One was the cockpit, one was the fresher, and the last one was the large open cargo hold. It was the type of ship usually used to transport Clones short distances when comfort wasn't of high priority.

There were benches along the side walls, and lockers with emergency provisions inside. There would be enough rations inside to last them a few weeks if they needed.

In the far corner he was relieved to see his discarded lightsaber.

Around him, Qui-Gon counted 23 younglings (including Katooni and Ganodi, whom he couldn't see but assumed were in the cockpit.) Amongst them, Gungi was the oldest there, at 13 standard. Every other child there ranged from 12 years standard, all the way down to the youngest at infant at just 3 months old.

And as far as they all knew they were the last surviving members of the Jedi Order.

The realisation hit Qui-Gon like a punch in the chest, and the incomprehensible grief must have shown on his face because all of a sudden the younglings around him broke into inconsolable sobs.

They were scared and frightened, and clung to each other for strength.

And Qui-Gon could not offer a single word of comfort.

\- - -

They stayed in HyperSpace as often as they were able. Luckily the ship was fully fuelled, and they had many days travel left to formulate a plan.

Qui-Gon tried to think of any planet it would be safe for them to go to, but the emptiness of the Force and the grief in his chest made it hard to think.

The younglings cared for each other, and the older ones watched over the little ones when Qui-Gon was unable. Qui-Gon would comment later on how proud he was of them for looking after each other, but right then he barely even noticed.

On the sixth day of travelling through Space without a course, they were flagged by a familiar message signature.

Qui-Gon sealed himself in the cockpit alone, in case the transmission was not suitable for the younglings.

When the familiar, kind face of Bail Organa appeared on the holoscreen, Qui-Gon was met with stunned silence.

“Qui-Gon?” The Senator breathed, as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing, “Oh my God...”

Qui-Gon was hard pressed to fight back his tears as Bail explained to him what had happened.

Every Jedi declared an enemy of the Empire. Thousands already dead, the rest being hunted across the galaxy. Masters and younglings alike.

The Temple was gone.

“Master Yoda is here,” Bail said gently, his expression creasing with sympathy at Qui-Gon's wide eyes, the Jedi Master looking lost for a long moment.

“Master Yoda is alive?” He could scarcely believe it, and his joy at hearing the Master had survived was offset by the realisation of their shared agony.

“Yes Qui-Gon,” Bail continued, smiling gently, knowing he was speaking to a man who had suffered an immeasurable trauma, “And Obi-Wan Kenobi will be back with us before you get here.”

\- - -

The journey to Bail Organa's facility took 2 more days as they followed the detour that would take them away from well-travelled space lanes.

In that time, he took to sitting with younglings, finding that as soon as he lowered himself to the floor at least 3 of the children would curl up against him, and within minutes the rest would join.

It was unthinkable for a Jedi Master to sit with the younglings so, but Qui-Gon knew the days of the Jedi were over. Now they were just victims trying to survive the horrors they had witnessed.

\- - -

The was a hush of uncertainty as the last docking clamp engaged and the ramp lowered out onto the landing bay. The older children were each holding one of the infants as Qui-Gon was unable to with only one arm.

All the younglings hesitated to disembark, looking to Qui-Gon for guidance, and he gave them a reassuring nod.

Slowly, they headed down the ramp, then all of a sudden a great cry went up and as one they ran forward, falling at Master Yoda's feet as he opened his arms to embrace as many as he could.

There were sobs and wailing as the reality of the past week crashed upon them again, trying to make sense of more than any child should have to see. Qui-Gon met Yoda's eyes over their heads, and they shared a simple nod of understanding. They could speak later.

Then Obi-Wan stepped into view, and Qui-Gon felt something inside him break. The grief, the great unspeakable pain he had bottled up and set aside for the sake of the children started to crack, and as soon as he got to the end of the ramp he fell into Obi-Wan's arms without a coherent word.

They clung to each other fiercely, so tight it almost hurt, and then the wall of control came tumbling down and they were both sobbing. Great heaving wails of grief escaped them. For dead friends, killed by those they had trusted, for the pain of betrayal, forof loosing everything they had ever known in one fell heart stopping swoop. They were beyond lost, they were raw and empty and _broken_.

And all they had left was each other.

They were beyond comprehension as they sank to the ground, shaking legs failing them, their breaths coming gasped and pained.

And they clung to each other until no more tears would come. Until their throat were raw and their chests hurt from fighting for breath. And then they just sat there in silence, their foreheads together, the docking bay long empty around them.

Because there were just no words.

\- - -

The first place they were all taken was the medical bay. All of the younglings were seen to and given a variety of vitamins and supplements to make up for the shock and malnutrition they had suffered. The infants were taken off to be weighed and monitored by specialised doctors.

Qui-Gon's arm was unwrapped and seen to by a professional, but little needed to be done other than a fresh dressing. The bacta had done its job, and all the flesh was knitting together into a neat scar. He was informed he could be fitted for a prosthetic in a couple of days.

His face was also given the all-clear. Qui-Gon hadn't felt it at the time, but the swipe that had taken his right arm had also narrowly missed blinding him in the same eye. He was left instead with just a deep scar from jaw to forehead that would never truly fade away.

\- - -

The news of Padme'sdeath rocked him to his core.

He had known the Senator for over a decade, watched her grow from a young Queen, still a child in so many ways, to the formidable woman who remained a voice of reason throughout the war.

He knew she had been close to Anakin and Obi-Wan, and although he had not spent much time in her presence recently, he would have called her a friend.

So even with everything else, he was overwhelmed by the pain of losing such a vibrant young life...

That she had given birth to twins before passing was almost incomprehensible to Qui-Gon. He had not even known she was pregnant. He opened his mouth to ask the questions that struck him, but Obi-Wan's haunted expression told him all he needed to know.

“They're Anakin's?” Qui-Gon breathed, and Obi-Wan nodded silently, eyes on the floor.

Without a word Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan into a tight embrace, feeling the man shaking against him. Obi-Wan had told him of what had transpired of Mustafar, how he had flown with Padme unbeknownst to her, of Anakin's unhinged ranting and his attempt on her life. Of their last, final battle.

The pain in his eyes as he delivered the news in a dead voice was unspeakable.

That event alone had been enough to break Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon knew in his heart that he was forever changed because of it.

He supposed they all were.

\- - -

The first and only time Qui-Gon held Leia, the infant barely two days old and fast asleep, his hands shook with the emotions that burrowed in his heart. She and her brother, Luke, were like beacons of hope and serenity in the darkness, and yet already their lives were marked with death and grief.

The choice had been made to separate them, for their own safety. They would be raised as only-children, and that necessity broke Qui-Gon's heart as he looked down at the tiny baby in his arms. She would never know of her brother. Of her parents. Who they had been. Who they could have been.

Obi-Wan sat next to him, cradling Luke like the precious thing he was, and Qui-Gon could feel the pain radiating off his former padawan in waves. Within the twins was everything he, they, had lost. And soon they would be without even those.

Bail Organa took Leia gently from Qui-Gon's hands a short while later, holding the baby tight and secure. His expression was already full to the brim with a father's love, and Qui-Gon knew that Leia would want for nothing in her life.

Luke was to stay with them for a little while, but only a little while. Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan was trying to pretend he had no attachment to the children, but it was impossible not to. They were a perfect, constant reminder of both their parents.

But Obi-Wan had already informed Qui-Gon that Luke had a home picked out, just a few galaxies over. And Qui-Gon had not questioned it.

\- - -

Three days later Yoda came to them to inform them of their final mission.

“Keep the younglings safe, you must. Looking for them, Darth Vader is.”

Bail Organa had prepared a ship for them; top of the range, big enough for them to live in without stepping on each other's toes, but fast enough to escape trouble if it found them. It was filled to the brim with supplies, along with enough to credits to keep them stocked long after those supplies ran out.

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked, not sounding sure. But Qui-Gon already knew what Yoda meant.

“Know them, Darth Vader does,” Yoda spoke to Obi-Wan, taking his hand when the man knelt. There was something shattered in Obi-Wan at that moment, and they all spoke to him gently to give him time to pull the parts of heart back together, “Hunt them, he will. Kill all Jedi, his mission is. Be allowed to do this he must not.”

Qui-Gon put a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, then knelt beside him, “We will keep them safe, Master.”

“Why cant you come with us?” Obi-Wan asked, fighting the pleading tone that tried to creep into his voice.

Yoda looked at them with sadness, and Qui-Gon realised for the first time just how old and tired the ancient Master really was.

“Help you now I cannot,” he said gently, looking up at the two good men in front of him with such love that Qui-Gon had to bow his head against tears. Obi-Wan's flowed freely. “Yours, this journey is; their only hope you are.”

“Will we see you again?” Obi-Wan asked, voice a bare, broken whisper. Yoda fixed him with a sad smile.

“One day, perhaps.”

\- - -

A day later and Yoda was gone, and they were lead to the ship that would be their new home. They were to become nomads; travelling the galaxies, constantly on the run from the newly founded Empire.

It was the only way to keep the younglings the safe for now.

The younglings peered through the transparisteel at the sleek silver cruiser with fascination, chattering softly amongst themselves. It was a lovely ship; elegant, if a bit bulky.

Both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon mourned the easy-to-conjure opinions Anakin would have had of the ship.

Obi-Wan slipped his hand into Qui-Gon's without a word, and if Qui-Gon was surprised by the contact he said nothing after he saw the crease of apprehension on the other man's face.

It was their future, sitting in the hangar before them.

The _Gardarro. '_ The Rebellion'. Their new home. For as long as it would have them.

And Qui-Gon prayed that would be many many years.

For while there is life, there is Hope.

**Author's Note:**

> 30/04/16: So that's the start. I'll be posting more to this universe soon. But if you can't wait, check out the 'Space Dads on the Run' tag on Tumblr, it's all over there. I'm DalishWolfhound.


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